Falling In
by WhiteQueen1999
Summary: What happened after Florence quit? How did she and Anatoly join forces and become romantically involved? And what challenges will they face in their mere first hours together with Molokov, Frederick and the press? Rated T for slight swearing, kissing and suggestiveness


**Falling In**

**AN/: Don't own Chess never will and all that other stuff that you are all probably sick of seeing at the beginning of a story. Anyways… On with the actual story… **

Florence Vassy fled the Palace Hotel out into the deserted garden of the place, the mountain air of Merano Italy bit at her skin. Pure terror penetrated her new sense of freedom. She had quit! No longer would she have to be subject to Freddie's abuse or have to save his confounded hide again after he mouthed off about the Soviets to the press or threw the chess board about or other ridiculous things like that. But this had been her life, her occupation for seven years now! He had paid her, taken care of her, _loved _(?) her. Took her in when no one would and given her a chance to work with the best-_second best! -_ She reminded herself. But the trouble had started their peace hadn't lasted. They stopped being fascinated with each other, the passion and devotion had faded over the years and they began to see each other for the faults as well, but they could not see past the others faults and still love the other anymore, that is where it went wrong. At least for her, she had begun to see Freddie as he was and how he hurt her and how she could no longer be faithful in loving him…

She could also not forget how he relentlessly smashed his own reputation and let her pick up the pieces and cared not about Chess but about the money that came from it. Or the abuse, over the past three years it had gotten worse, his cruel words made her want to distance herself from him, but he had insisted on intimacy that she didn't want to have anymore, it was sometimes physically painful for her to endure his "fulfilling his needs", yes she was happy to have left, but what would she do without him? Without Freddie what was she? A damn Hungarian, that's what! She had always been taught it "_Nobody associates with Hungarians, not now, especially not now." _ With this and a reference of having worked with Frederick Trumper, the infamous chess champion, who would hire her?

She let out a frantic sob, what would become of her? As more terrible fates occurred to her, the sobs pressed out despite her efforts to oppress them. Florence collapsed onto the low stone wall the encompassed the gardens. The surrounding area appeared deserted at her glance, so she let her sobbing become less constrained. She sat pressing one hand to her chest, the other held her forehead and occasionally wiped her cheeks.

"Miss Vassy?" She jumped at the voice, quickly wiping her eyes, she checked the source of the voice. She was appalled see Anatoly Sergievsky, the Russian grandmaster.

"Oh, h-hello" She said, her breath hitching as aftermath of the sobbing.

"Is there a problem?" He said uncertainly, as he sat uninvited beside her.

"Oh, it's nothing really. I'm fine"she said drily.

"It doesn't seem so, if you'll pardon me Miss Vassy." He said leaning toward her to examine her face in the light of the streetlamps. "If it concerns the matches today, there is still a chance that your sweetheart will win, everyone has the days when they don't play as well-"

"No, he's not-I'm not working for him anymore"

"What?! I mean _why" _He sounded rather surprised.

"I'd rather not say."

"Well, regardless I am sorry for that, separating from a partner is heartbreaking, quite understandably. I hope he wasn't too unkind in dumping you."

"Why is it assumed that I was dumped?"

"Because, your so, dutiful to him. Devoted." He winced at his own lapse in propriety.

"Well, I dumped him." She said bluntly looking away.

"Chto*?"

Florence raised an eyebrow, Anatoly sighed and looked apologetic. "What?"

"It's none of your business!" She said, losing patience and growing suspicious, he was in still the enemy of her former team, he might be up to something. If there was one-thing chess championships and politics taught her, it was to watch out for who might stab her in the back.

He gave her a concerned look. "Miss Vassy…." He muttered.

"No, sir, not now." She stood hastily

He stood with her. "Come with me?" He asked.

She gave in; still muddled and emotional she decided to follow her heart for once. She followed him back into the Palace Hotel.

Florence was acutely aware of the reporters and paparazzi in the lobby, hoping to pick up on new drama. She imagined a headline for the morning news: _World Chess Championship Drama! Anatoly Sergievsky seen with Trumper's second, Florence Vassy! _Rolling her eyes she tried to keep herself from thinking about how romantic this situation might be. Anatoly escorted her into the elevator and pressed the button for the ninth floor. He was quiet for sometime observing her, she tried to ignore it. They stopped abruptly on the seventh floor, the door slid open to reveal Frederick, seeing them, his face turned to shock and disgust. Shooting a despising look at Anatoly, he stalked back down the hall.

Florence didn't know what to expect, _where is he taking me?_ It didn't occur to her to be afraid. She followed him to the room and waited while he unlocked the door to his room, he stood aside so that she could enter and then walked in behind her, shutting the door with a firm _click. _

"Now, Miss Vassy, do you wish to tell me what happened?" He sounded sincerely concerned for her. She wordlessly followed him into the main part of the room.

"Please sit." Anatoly offered gesturing to the sofa. Florence didn't know what possessed her, she began to speak, soon her entire story about Freddie had spilled out. How awful he'd been recently, how he abused her, how she finally cracked here in Merano, how the Mountain Inn revealed his true colours, and finally their final argument. Anatoly listened intently, watching her, hanging on her every word. When she had finished he didn't say anything for a good thirty seconds. "If you are free of a bad relationship, why cry about it?" He inquired tactfully.

Florence once again, as if she were a faucet, spurted her worries about her future. When she had finished, he simply nodded and seemed pensive.

"Stay here?" He offered. "Until we leave Merano, I can try and help you."

"No, no, I couldn't bother you like that."

"It's not" He promised, his voice almost passionate.

Florence tried again to refuse but he was persuasive. _Never lose your heart, use your head!_ It just didn't seem to be working this time. She loved him too much.

She stayed, she fell asleep on the selfsame couch, after insisting on not being so bothersome as to deprive him of the bed. Her rest was peaceful knowing Freddie couldn't find her and demand sex. Unfortunately it was an ungodly hour when angry Russian shouting and banging on the door disturbed the pair. Anatoly swore in Russian and English, leaping out of his bed. Florence sat upright in utter horror, the Russian grandmaster threw open the door revealing his second; Molokov. No sooner had the door been flung open, did the storm of heated Russian begin.

Florence spoke around two words of Russian, and she understood of all of four words "Vassy" –her own surname-, "Anatoly"-his name-, "Television"-because it was in English, and…

"Niet!" _No…_ Anatoly snapped after Molokov finished a particularly aggressive part of his lambaste. Florence walked over, curious as to what they were saying. Upon seeing her, Molokov looked mortified and flabbergasted.

"I am quite glad you don't speak Russian Miss Vassy."

_So it was a discredit to me that they were discussing? _"Oh" Florence could think of nothing more eloquent to say.

Anatoly turned to her and with suppressed sarcasm informed her "Molokov was simply expressing his concern about the tabloids' take on our… conversations"

"Not only this 'conversation' bah! Your relationship with each other! Both of you have responsibilities and loyalties that lay elsewhere, we don't have time to waste with romantic turmoil! We are here for chess not girls, Anatoly! And she's with someone else!"

Florence shook her head, this was plainly humiliating, she hoped Anatoly would set him straight.

"She left Mr. Trumper, it was according to her a bad relationship and she had nothing to do and nowhere to go!"

"So you thought she would enjoy warming your bed?"

-"I am sleeping on the sofa!"-

-"She's sleeping on the sofa"- Florence and Anatoly snapped in unison.

"It doesn't matter, imagine what this will do for your reputation! It might affect your playing!"

"_Is that likely?" _Florence said half-guilty, half-skeptical, said in a sarcastic tone.

"No Miss Vassy." Anatoly assured her in irritation. "Now, if you will forgive us, we'll enjoy the rest of our sleep."

"Love-making" Molokov scowled. "This means I'm dealing with the press for you?"

"Yes" Anatoly clarified, sounding more of a demanding champion then he ever had in his life, he was for once arrogant to pique his second.

"Otlichnyy*" He scoffed.

"Go to Hell." Anatoly slammed the door in his second's face. He turned to Florence.

"Not too friendly with your second?" She asked.

"You have no idea, I should apologize for him. He can be rather offensive."

Florence forced a laugh, trying to hide her hurt at about it. That he should somehow disregard it. What had she expected? For him to not apologize and let the sexual tension grow? Now she was making no sense! He thought she was a kind person, perhaps a decent opponent, but not romantic. How could a married man think like that about her? _Florence! Honestly get a grip on your emotions; he can't be involved with you. He's married, if he wasn't than you could, but no. Not him. _

"Miss Vassy? What's wrong?" Anatoly asked, possibly noting her ill concealed distress.

"Nothing! Why?" She said sharply.

"You are nearly crying again." He informed her, anxious that she didn't realize it herself.

"Emotions, politics and chess aren't best mixed. They're messy in themselves and cataclysmic when mixed together. Which is why the dramatic championship is so trying, it's US versus USSR in politics. And in tabloids it's the new relationships between the players and the officials involved. On top of this you tend to feel the wrong things at the right time and vice versa, you tend to discover good things where they shouldn't be found. Or do ridiculously un-thought-through things, like fallin – Excuse me, I'm just prattling on with no thought for how much sense my little speech makes."

"Oh no! I understand what you mean, I think only that my emotions are inferred with by assistants and other commitments."

"Ha! I can see-no, sorry I can understand that point."

Mr. Sergievsky gave her a knowing smile as she stifled a yawn. "We should get back to sleeping?"

She choked aloud at what her mind translated his words to without her permission. Covering it up she coughed and nodded. "We should."

Back on the couch she reflected on the odd conversations they'd had that evening and wondering what her obscure lines meant to him, what his obscure lines meant to her. _Heaven help me now, I love him too much, more than I had ever loved anything, more than I used to love Freddie. _Realization was terrifying, it was so strong and she'd never felt anything like it before. And he was married….

Morning came all too soon after the interlude in the night. She awoke before Mr. Sergievsky, she spent the time dressing for the day and freshening up in the bathroom. She folded her blanket neatly on the sofa and sat next to it. Soon after her Russian friend stirred and awoke, evidently surprised to see her, alert.

"Oh! Good Morning!" he yawned trying to look dignified and neaten his hair. _Was all he did incredibly endearing?_

"Good Morning Mr. Sergievsky."

"Please call me Anatoly, Miss Vassy."

"Then likewise you must know me as Florence, Anatoly."

She waited while he changed in the bathroom and freshened up. When he emerged, the duo went downstairs to eat breakfast. In the elevator, Florence had a sudden thought. "Anatoly? Should we eat separately? I mean what Mr. Molokov said-"

"He would do more good talking to my pawns, I won't listen to him"

Florence was quiet for the rest of the ride, pondering what would make him flagrantly ignore his second. They exited the elevator and were greeting by all the reporters who stalked the players day in and out.

"Miss Vassy, What do you say to rumors that Frederick is abusive?"

"One-hundred percent true!" Florence spat, pushing past the reporter, only to have another ask her.

"Confirm or deny rumors of your split?"

"Confirmed" She said, casually flicking her hand at him.

Another was badgering her companion. "Mr. Sergievsky, tell us about your reported budding romance with the young lady:"

"NO!" Anatoly snapped, he hated the reporters, buzzing like bees around him, with stupid questions. "Leave me alone or you'll regret it!"

The reporter backed off quickly, knowing of the chess champions association with the KGB. The pair were given a wide berth for every reporters fear of him. At breakfast, they were seated in the special secure area surrounded by officials. Unfortunately Frederick was seated there as well along with the Russian and American teams. It was far from an intimate setting, unlike the Merano Mountain Inn had been. Florence was concentrated on looking emotionless for the press. Anatoly focused on a battle of glares with Freddie. Florence looked up occasionally, but felt ashamed at being seen out so soon after her dumping Freddie. He was obviously hurt at her defection to the Soviets. As much as she despised him, ahw wished not to shake her new alliance over his nose. She didn't have much of an appetite from all the stress in the room. She waited politely and pushed the eggs about on her plate. After what seemed like decades Anatoly looked at her inquiringly.

"Been enjoying yourself, glaring at him?" she teased.

"He glared first."

"I can easily believe that."

"I'm quite sure he's jealous that I am now your companion." Anatoly informed her.

" Am I not supposed to be _yours." _

"_Mine? _" He wondered aloud. "My what again?"

"Companion, Anatoly" She said patiently.

"Excuse my English, I am sometimes confused" he said hurriedly.

_His English is perfect. _"Your English is perfect , Anatoly."

"Thank you. Shall we go somewhere less unpleasant?" He offered.

"I detest reporters" was Florence's only comment as she stood hurriedly with him.

In the elevator, Freddie joined them. He cleared his throat. "Flo, honey. You've had time to cool down. You were angry last night and blew my behavior out of proportion. Now, why don't you apologize and we kiss and make up? I need you.."

"To abuse? Ha! You pathetic worm! You think your anything to me? Think again! I found another who is more understanding of me! And also… he's better in bed" Florence said confidentially, wildly trying to create a story to annoy him and punish him for what he'd done to her. Anatoly stared at her, wondering what on earth she was talking about.

"Didn't I saw so darling?" She said turning to Anatoly pointedly.

"Uh yes, you did sweetheart." He answered, bemused and embarrassed as he played along Florence.

"Yeah right! I don't believe you Flo'!"

"You want proof?" Anatoly challenged after a sharp poke from Florence.

"Sure!" He challenged.

He looked at Florence helplessly, he didn't know what to do. She raised an eyebrow at him, pointedly. He began to speak. "Well I am terribly sorry Trumper, I seemed to have forgotten to commemorate the event with photographs." He said helplessly, not sounding fierce at all.

Florence groaned, Anatoly was far to sweet, as she was vindictive at the moment. _He doesn't know proof in any other way than the KGB does he?_

"Not that sort of proof, darling." She said as sweetly as her frustration would allow. She _had_ to punish Freddie for the three years he'd put her through, it was infuriating!

"T-then what?" He was obtuse to her suggestion.  
"We'll discuss it later!"

Freddie cleared his throat. "Fine! I get it! I'm the fool, that's what you're trying to prove."

Florence suddenly realized for the better part of the argument they'd been stopped on the second floor, where Freddie's room was, the aforementioned stormed out. When he was gone, Florence giggled slightly then burst into full-fledged laughter, while Anatoly observed her like she had gone mad.

"I'm sorry, it was terribly unfair to drag you into my little vendetta of madness."

"Don't apologize, it might heighten my chances of winning today." He teased. "That he will be in a lesser state of mind today."

Florence lost herself in thought, what had her plan been when she was trying to prove it to Freddie, she in hindsight realized she had no plan. Would she have kissed Anatoly? Not for that reason, she thought the whole plan might just have been an underhanded way to get Anatoly's attention. Walking back to the room, she realized just how helpless the attempt had been. He had chatted off about the damn game again, it was hopeless, he was deflecting her attempts! Why shouldn't he? He had his love with his wife, surely playing in her name. She realized how little she knew about him, she loved a stranger so powerfully? She had lost her heart to a stranger. Tears rushed to her eyes as Anatoly unlocked the doors, she sniffed and wiped them away.

"Florence…Are you alright?"

"No!" she snapped.

"Do you… wish you hadn't left, he would take you back I am sure, if you just explained. It's not too late."

"I don't regret it."

"Then? Can I help?"

"Yes! –no, Anatoly you can't. "

"Can I or can't I?"

Not entirely sure what possessed her, Florence turned around to face him, her emotions plain on her face. He stared at her. "Florence… is there…" he was plainly confused. Still unsure of what possessed her, she crossed the room and embraced him tightly.

"Florence?" He sounded very concerned now. "what's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing's wrong. Well it is… But only morally."

"Morally?"  
"I love you!" She announced passionately.  
"You do?" He was surprised, but not unpleasantly, what crossed his mind was only joy that this woman actually loved him back. He held her tightly and when she looked up at him, he kissed her.

It wasn't an awkward kiss in Florence's opinion, her first kiss with Freddie hadn't been like this. This was a kiss with the sensual bliss that came from love and desire.

**Russian words spelled phonetically: **

**Chto-What? Pronounced: "shhh-tow" **

**Otlichnyy-Splendid! Pronounced: aught-leech-nee**

**I hope you enjoyed! I am working on a companion piece to this, it's called Falling Apart, if you enjoyed this, keep an eye out for that**

**-Fantine9430**

**R&R!**


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